Round Two
by shattered petal
Summary: Roy and Olivier duel each other for victory. In their own "special" way. -Roy/Olivier


**author's note**: This is set post-manga. Enjoy!

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**Title**: Round Two  
**Genres**: Humour  
**Rating**: T  
**Couple**: Roy/Olivier

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Roy Mustang could tell she was still infected by the flowers all those nights ago. Every time he thought of how smoothly he handed them to her, and then the woman's explosive response just made him grin in satisfaction. At the moment, Olivier Armstrong's side of the chessboard was slanted. Meaning, right now, Roy was winning the heated game between them both.

One hand shoved in his pocket, Roy had to admit he was a little surprised to bump into her out-of-the-blue. It seemed the young Major General had grown popular, and the Fuhrer demanded her presence eagerly, keen to share his thoughts and ideas with two of his favourite underlings. Roy, unfortunately for Olivier, was one of them and the two found themselves in each other's company more than desired.

In Olivier's case, Roy's presence was _never_ desired.

Honestly he could feel the _fury_ bouncing off her whenever Grumman insisted Roy sit next to her whilst they discussed pleasantries. It wouldn't be long until Olivier cracked and demanded Grumman _keep her_ at Briggs. The frequent trips were becoming a hassle, yet this only made Roy snigger.

It was clear as day why Grumman liked seeing them both together.

They amused him.

'So, are you busy later this evening?'

'Speak another word and I'll shove my shoe down your throat.'

'It's sad to see a woman wandering around the city alone––'

'You know, Mustang, not all isolated women feel lonely. It's a miracle you've _just caught _a smaller mind from picking up whichever lost woman you find down the alley.'

As much as Olivier pressed how dumb Roy was, he actually wasn't, and understood the implication she was referring to.

'At least they appreciate my flowers.'

Even though she didn't even bat an eye, Roy knew he had pulled a nerve. Smirking ear-to-ear, Mustang continued his way down the hall, aware Olivier wanted to flee from his side as soon as possible.

However today Roy decided to take the elevator. Every now and again his lazy side did kick in, and the staircase looked quite _exhausting_ that evening. Pressing the button to go down he waited patiently, then realised Olivier was waiting –– quite patiently herself –– _with_ him.

Slowly, Mustang cocked a brow at her. Olivier didn't look at him, yet her lips curled into a small sneer.

At once Roy knew he was in deep shit. Panicking a little, he considered making a run for it then and there but it was too late. The elevator doors slid open and the man forced himself inside. Not to his surprise, Olivier followed, cold, icy eyes on him constantly. It felt like years until the doors finally slid shut again.

_Ah_.

So here Roy was. In an elevator. Trapped with Olivier. Or, in more accurate terms, a disturbed animal who liked to bite. And bite hard, _she did_.

He swallowed, _wishing_ she'd stop watching him with those _eyes_. They made him shiver in his uniform. _If she doesn't stop looking at me_––

The scruff of his collar was yanked down, causing the male to choke, and the ability to breathe was hindered when Olivier slammed her mouth onto his, smacking his back into the wall, her hands wrestling at his tufts of jet black hair, tongue already seizing his. It didn't take long for Roy to realise what she was doing.

The game was not over.

No way would she win this one, though.

They had six floors to travel. That was enough for Mustang to quickly recover his status.

Just as aggressively, he forced her mouth open wider with his tongue, biting on her lower lip and literally battling against her dominating force. Roy's hands found the hem of her jacket and he slid his hands under, her heavy chest vulnerable to his touch and he squeezed, causing the woman to twitch suddenly.

A sexy groan rippled from her lips.

Olivier was no easy match though. Before he could rummage further, her hand shot for his zipper and pulled it down, almost prying his fly apart whilst she lowered his trousers frantically just past his hips. Gloved hands snaked down his abdomen, buried into his boxers and teased the one part of his body which made him a man.

'Argh!'

Grabbing her shoulders, he struggled to switch positions, their mouths moist and hot against each other, desperately fighting to win their pride back.

_Two more floors_.

Admittedly, Olivier was shocked. She wasn't expecting such a _powerful_ response from the man she considered an outright wimp, and if she wasn't careful Roy would walk away in victory.

Removing her hands from his manhood, she resorted to his jacket, prying the buttons apart, frantically feeling his hard muscles and stony abs, kissing him with an aggressive passion, their hips knocking together. Olivier stood on her tiptoes and rubbed her flat stomach against his engorged rod, causing the male to moan.

The little act only frustrated him further, and he pulled at her blonde locks, seizing a perfect advantage. Unbalanced, Olivier wasn't able to maintain her position and stumbled back, slapping into the opposite wall. Roy claimed her wrists and pinned them above her head, his lips working away from her bruised mouth, over her cheek, jawline, neck––

_Ding_.

In the two seconds offered by the slowly opening lift doors, both heated colleagues corrected their attire in a flash, cheeks red and completely flustered.

Roy's hair was never combed, so no one could tell the difference, but Olivier's was a little crazy. Ah heck, if anyone spoke let them, because she wouldn't be visiting anytime soon.

Brushing past the two officers who had been waiting for their lift to arrive, Roy and Olivier didn't exchange glances or words until they both reached the exit.

Even though his heart was hammering against his chest, his head was throbbing and he was still incredibly turned on, Mustang was capable of grinning cockily.

'Mustang: two. Armstrong: none.'

Olivier blinked, then twitched a teasing smile and stepped forwards. Mustang straightened his back, prepared for whatever assaults she had planned next. An unnoticed hand hovered over Roy's groin.

'Not bad, Roy-Boy––' And she pulled. Roy flinched, eyes wide. '––for a _wuss_.'

Before the man could say anything, Olivier left her mark, her ego quickly returned


End file.
